


Burden

by kakumei



Series: Manufacture to Destroy [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Drabble, Gen, Hurt, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakumei/pseuds/kakumei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts of anguish after Tamlen's death disturb Nida's sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burden

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see if I could explore a character using as little words as possible; it was written during a dark time in my life when I needed cheering up. I think it's pretty successful, not to blow my own horn or anything :)

There was still dirt under her finger nails that night, caked between the gaps of flesh and keratin. She rested her head on her hands like a second pillow over her bedroll, the smell of young evergreen and bark tangent and spicy in the air. The small nicks on her finger, fresh from twining string around the shaft of arrow after arrow continuously before the hearth, stang while sap and earth tainted her open skin.

Inhale, exhale. She repeated it as her mantra. Nida had grown tired of crying. Her jawbone throbbed painfully under the pressure of her teeth grinding hard against each other, culminating from months of effort in suppressing all her rage and frustration and hurt.

It was dark. The campfire was dead, and in its absence the last remnants of winter’s chill seethed through the fabric of her tent and attacked the very core of her bones. Pins and needles threaded through her spine and her joints - a constant reminder of the physical and psychological burdens loaded onto her person. Nida shifted onto her side, but then clamped her mouth shut as a hiss of pain escaped through her teeth. She’d forgotten the oval-shaped bruise the shriek had left on her shoulder, which had left brackets on her arm where its fangs had sunk in. Sniffling, Nida returned to her open plank position and stared hopelessly up at the intersection holding up her tent.

Just one more night, she reminded herself. Perhaps it will be over tomorrow.


End file.
